Wolfen (28 page)

 
"All of it,” Xavier said promptly. “The next one's better."

 
Sending him a reproachful look, she shook her head at him and then turned to study Dakota thoughtfully. “One of the Dakota's?"

 
"Nope."

 
"That's not fair! I'm really not very good with accents. Give me a hint."

 
"It's west of the Mississippi."

 
She gave him a look. “Half the country is west of the Mississippi!"

 
He shrugged. “I'm part American Indian."

 
She widened her eyes at him. “Really? Part a little? Or part a lot?"

 
He grinned at her. “Part a lot."

 
"Really?” she asked, pleased. “Me, too—I think, but just a little."

 
He lifted his dark brows at her. “You're blond,” he said chuckling.

 
She pouted. “I said a little, didn't I? Cherokee, I think. Or maybe it was something else?"

 
"Too bad,” he said, mock serious. “They were deadly enemies of my people."

 
"They were?"

 
"No,” he said, grinning, then leaned down to whisper near her ear. “Montana."

 
A shiver skated through her as his warm breath caressed her, but this time it was a pleasant one. He took her bottle from her hand and headed back toward the cooler. “I wasn't done with that."

 
"Sure you were. I'll get you another."

 
She eyed Con and Balin a little uncomfortably when they reached the porch. “Is he part Indian, too?” she whispered to Dakota as he straightened and twisted the lid off of another bottle.

 
He glanced over at Con and Balin. “Con? I don't think so."

 
"I meant Balin,” she said a little testily.

 
"French,” he said curtly.

 
"You're sure? ‘Cause he looks Indian to me."

 
"You want to ask him?” he whispered back at her.

 
She blinked at Dakota. “No. He's mad at me."

 
He settled an arm around her shoulders and led her back into the yard, pressing the bottle into her hands. “I think I've got a buzz,” she announced to the group at the grill. “Are you done burning those yet? Because I'm hungry."

 
"How do you like yours?” Jared asked, grinning at her.

 
"Dead."

 
"I'm pretty sure it's dead,” Dakota said, laughing at her.

 
"Yes, but—not wounded, you know. Not bleeding."

 
The three men exchanged a speaking glance. “I think this one's probably done enough,” Jared announced, pulling a blackened chunk off the grill with a cooking fork and slapping it on a plate.

 
"I'll take it,” Dakota said as Danika reached for it. “I'm not sure you can make it back inside with the meat still on the plate."

 
She gave him a reproachful look. “I can,” she said mulishly. “I've only had one beer!"

 
"Two,” Xavier contradicted her.

 
She frowned at him. “Are you sure?"

 
"It doesn't matter,” Dakota assured her smoothly, guiding her back into the cabin.

 
She had a little trouble negotiating the steps. “That sure is strong beer. How many did you say I had?"

 
"When did you eat last?” Dakota asked her when he'd helped her into a chair at the table inside and settled the plate in front of her.

 
She frowned, trying to remember. “I don't remember,” she said finally. “I have to pee ... pardon me. The ladies room?"

 
Dakota guided her across the cabin and pushed the door open. She waved him away. “I can manage."

 
"You're sure? I don't mind helping."

 
"Very funny!"

 
She nearly missed the toilet. She had no idea why that was so funny, but she had a hard time containing her amusement. The bathroom swam around her a little nauseatingly when she got up again. Gripping the lavatory to steady herself, she managed to wash her hands and splash a little cool water on her face.

 
Dakota was waiting for her when she emerged. She beamed at him. “I did just fine all by myself, I'll have you to know."

 
He grinned at her. “Baby, you do
not
have a head for booze."

 
"Are you inthin .. inthin ... suggesting I'm drunk?"

 
He laughed. “No, but you've got a hell of a buzz."

 
"Alrighty then!"

 
She beamed at the men around the table when she'd managed to ring the seat of her chair. “This is fun!"

 
Balin eyed her with amusement. “Which part?"

 
"All of it! I'm glad I came. I haven't been to a party in ... uh ... a long time. I don't get out much. Well, I do, but it's usually in the woods and there's nobody there.” She turned to look at the man seated next to her and discovered it was Con. “Where you from?"

 
He grinned at her. “Currently? Or originally?"

 
She frowned at him. “That depends on how long you were where you were originally from."

 
"Why?” he asked, chuckling.

 
She frowned. “I don't know why. Oh! ‘Cause if you didn't grow up there it don't count. Doesn't. Customs! You know. People've got a lot in common when they're from a spefic ... spefic ... certain place."

 
"So if I said I was from Georgia...."

 
She gasped in pleased surprise. “You're from Georgia! Hey! I'm from Georgia!"

 
His shoulders started shaking with suppressed laughter. “Baby, I don't think you need to drink any more beer."

 
She turned to frown at her half empty bottle. “I've only had one ... and a half,” she added conscientiously.

 
"Three,” Xavier said cheerfully.

 
Dakota elbowed him in the ribs.

 
"Why did you do that?” he demanded indignantly.

 
Dakota rolled his eyes at him.

 
"'Cause he don't want you counting for me!” Danika snapped. “And I don't neither! Either!"

 
He shrugged. “We've got plenty more."

 
"But Dani's had enough,” Balin said pointedly.

 
Danika frowned at him. “Are you really French?"

 
He looked vaguely annoyed. “I'm not Indian, American or otherwise."

 
"Oh.” She leaned closer to Dakota. “You think he heard me a while ago?” she asked in a loud whisper.

 
Dakota eyed her with amusement. “It's possible."

 
"I guess he didn't like that,” she muttered. “But me and you's Indians and we don't care, right?"

 
"But he isn't."

 
"Oh!” She thought that over and turned to smile at him apologetically. “Sorry. It's the dark skin and the cheekbones. Honest mistake. Beg your pardon! You have a very nice face even if you aren't Indian."

 
"Eat your steak, Dani,” Balin said, studying her with a mixture of amusement and irritation.

 
She saluted and picked up her fork and knife, sawing off a piece. “Mmmm! Delicious! You're a very good cook—whoever."

 
She noticed when she was about halfway through her steak that she'd lost a little of the pleasant glow of ‘don't give a damn'. “Uh oh,” she announced. “I'm losing my buzz. I think I'll have another."

 
"All gone, baby. Sorry,” Dakota said firmly, helping her from her seat when she put her utensils down.

 
"It is?"

 
"It is."

 
"Guess that's the end of the party then,” Danika said glumly. “I'm going home now."

 
"Someone should walk you back."

 
"I won't get lost. It's right over there,” she assured Dakota, pointing.

 
"Actually, it's in the other direction,” Balin said dryly.

 
"I would've figured it out when I got outside!"

 
"I'll walk her over and then meet you at the place,” Xavier offered.

 
Everyone turned and glared at him. “Jared—why don't you and Xavier
both
walk her to her place and make sure she's alright?” Dakota suggested. “Asleep—and then meet us?"

 
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Chapter Twelve

Dimly aware that something was going on, although she couldn't quite figure out what, Danika studied Dakota's face intently as he directed Jared and Xavier. He looked so serious and grim! “Ya'll goin’ somewhere?"

 
He looked down at her, seemed to debate with himself a moment and finally trapped her face between his palms, angling his head down to align his lips with hers. Pleasure rippled through before her their mouths even made contact. He was kissing her goodnight, right in front of god and everybody! She'd been thinking bad thoughts about Dakota for nothing. He really did like her!

 
Contact scattered her thoughts like a flock of birds taking wing. A wave of heat and dizziness rolled over her as his mouth met and clung to hers. The sigh of his warm breath and the caress of his tongue along hers carried his essence inside of her, intensifying the heat and the sense of floating, swirling. Reeling with dizziness, she sought purchase, clutching at his bare torso for a moment and then hooking her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans to ground herself. Then, just as the hunger began to take hold of her, he lifted his head to look down at her again.

 
When she managed to lift her eyelids and focus her eyes, he smiled at her. It widened to a grin at her look of reproach. Swooping down once more, he kissed the tip of her nose and set her away from, steadying her. “You going to be alright?” he asked when she swayed far enough starboard she had to shuffle her feet to keep her balance.

 
She smiled at him tipsily. “Fine! I feel just fine! ‘Night ‘Kota!"

 
She looked around in confusion, still trying to find her center of gravity. Catching her shoulders, Dakota turned her in the direction of her cabin, gave her a little push to get her started and released her. Balin caught her as she made her way cautiously past him as if walking a tightrope, swinging her against him so unexpectedly that she tangled her feet in his and slumped against his chest. He slipped his hands beneath her arms, pulling her upright and she looked up at him in confusion. “Sorry. Didn't mean to step on your feet. Don't know how I did that."